Second Shot
by headtrip parade
Summary: Deacon, Rayna, and those around them get second chances while adjusting to a new little guy on the block.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again! These chapters won't necessarily have any direct sequence to one another, they're just all sort of revolving around our new guy and his impact on everyone around him. Since I prefer to build on canon and missed moments, I'm not usually one for introducing new characters but this kid has been nagging at me for the longest. :) I still tried to stay as canon as possible. **

**A huge shout out to Shiny Jewel and much thanks for her awesome words of wisdom, suggestions, and her careful beta-ing. Enjoy your "baby bliss," my friend. :)**

* * *

Deacon Claybourne was hardly a heavy sleeper. He woke up for thunderstorms, trains, the next door neighbor's dog barking, and sometimes even his daughter's alarm clock a good three rooms down the hall. Hell, he caught himself wakened by the buzzer on the toaster _downstairs_ once.

Rayna had always called him a hopeless case when it came to shut eye and in most fashions he was inclined to agree with her. He certainly did wake up for just about everything, so it was not surprising to him that he felt uneasy when he rolled over and her spot was cold.

He was also quick to notice that the Pack 'n Play at the edge of their bed was vacant, with the exception of one lone receiving blanket.

He moved his head from side to side, adjusting his eyes to the darkness but also inquiring to himself how he'd managed to sleep through not only their son's cries, but Rayna's subsequent tending to him and apparently leaving the room.

He stood and stretched, catching a glance at the clock as his flannel pants drug beneath his feet.

_3:18 AM._

He opened the door and peered out quietly, noticing the cracked door next to the lone night light in the hallway.

He crossed the hall and opened the door gently, grinning sleepily at the sight before him: Rayna lounging in the glider that she had pulled closer to the crib, looking over the railing and humming the melodies of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot."

Her face was illuminated only by some sort of revolving lamp contraption she obsessively shopped for a mere two days before she gave birth. Deacon didn't quite understand what was wrong with a regular lamp or night light and why it was so important that it went around in circles, but he was in little position to argue with her in that state.

"You know," he began quietly, edging just a tad closer and shutting the door softly behind him, "I've always said you were the only one better at that song than Johnny Cash."

She smirked, not once taking her eyes off the tiny infant in the crib.

"You mean I'm better than the man you just had to name this little guy after?"

Deacon grinned, softly running his hand over the top of her head and following her gaze toward the baby.

Jasper Cash Claybourne had been quite the surprise for everyone.

He'd first made his presence known no more than ten minutes before Rayna was leaving to take the stage at the Opry. Some may have called it an inopportune time to take a test, but she wasn't sure she could perform without knowing for sure. On the contrary, finding out did nothing to settle her nerves.

She somehow made it through her set without vomiting, which she later figured was because Deacon would do enough vomiting for them both when she got home that evening and informed him of her discovery.

"_Why are you sick?" she asked, standing against the bathroom door frame as he hovered over the toilet._

"_I'm still figuring out how to take care of one big enough to take care of herself and now you want me to take care of one that's completely helpless?"_

"_Deacon." She rolled her eyes. "I told you we needed to be more careful." _

"_And I told you to go back on the pill!"_

"_I was on the pill for twenty years. It was starting to make me cranky."_

She grinned at the memory, laughing a bit to herself as she remembered the look on Deacon's face before he muttered something to the effect of, _"God help me,"_ and let his dinner go again.

He hadn't gotten all of his nerves out that day, and to be honest she wasn't sure when he finally did, but she wasn't surprised at all when on the day their little man came into the world, Deacon was so completely _ready._ She'd never doubted that he would be, even though he obviously spent a ton of time doubting himself.

"He's so tiny," he whispered, slowly reaching his hand towards the infant's face. Rayna quickly grabbed his wrist. "What's that for?"

"He sleeps about as heavy as you do," she smiled. "Except he's a lot louder when you wake him up and a hell of a lot harder to put back down."

Deacon chuckled and brought his hand back to Rayna's shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

"Come back to bed, darlin'. You gotta be exhausted."

She nodded.

"I am, babe, but I just wanna sit here and watch him forever. He's the last one I'll ever have and I promise we'll wake up tomorrow and he'll be going into high school."

Deacon winced. The idea of his other child growing up so lightning fast that he missed it all was slightly unsettling.

"He won't tomorrow, Ray. Now come on."

She didn't say anything, just pulled his neck down to her level and placed her lips on his with a specific energy that he hadn't encountered in weeks. As she broke away, she continued to place small pecks all the way up his cheek until she reached his ear.

"Thank you," she whispered. He almost shivered.

"For what?"

"For the two best surprises of my life."

He smirked, running his fingers tightly over the top of her head. She closed her eyes at the massage-like contact.

"What about Daphne?"

Rayna smiled.

"Honey, she was planned down to the time of day." Deacon nodded, gazing up to the ceiling as if in deep thought. "What, babe?"

"I think we've been going about this the wrong way."

"Nah." She stood slowly, and gingerly wrapped her arms around his neck, wincing slightly at the soreness that still plagued her two weeks after the delivery. "We just need to hope our kids aren't as spontaneous as we are."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks again to Shiny Jewel for her beta read! **

* * *

Maddie propped her socked feet on the coffee table, simultaneously discovering just how difficult it was to get comfortable while feeding an infant.

Part of her instantly regretted offering to babysit so her mother could take a much needed shower and nap, but she kept at it until she was finally settled in the deep cushions and quickly found her groove.

She studied the boy's face as he sucked furiously on the bottle, bringing his miniature hands to hers as she held it. Every so often he would open his bright, vivacious eyes and look at her.

She grinned at him, ever so softly mouthing the word 'Hi.'

It had admittedly taken her a while to get used to the idea of him.

Her initial reaction was nothing short of disgust at the knowledge that her parents were actually having sexual relations, as she had been quick to convince herself that their moving in together meant the Lucy and Ricky twin beds were being delivered any day.

No such luck.

Soon, disgust turned to jealousy, then jealousy into excitement, then excitement to fear.

She was afraid of the fact that Deacon would raise this baby from the beginning—would it mean he was more special than her? Would she have to fight for her father's love?

She knew the answer, but nothing mended until the day Jasper was born and she got to hold his feather light frame in her arms for the very first time. She almost didn't care about anyone else in the room or what they felt but him—she promised him that very day that she was going to be the best big sister in the world to him.

Now she found herself thrilled to come home in the afternoon and be with him. Like clockwork, she'd rush inside the house and run up to her room, quickly tossing her backpack onto her bed and immediately going to wherever he was in the house.

She would often gaze at his face and try to find features they shared. She'd even dug out a box of her own baby photos to compare the two. The biggest and most pressing similarity was their eyes: Deep, moody pools of watercolor that spelled out everything they wanted to say. Their noses were also similar, but she noted that his hair was much darker than hers and his features were much more defined for a baby. She'd laughed a couple of times when she realized that she just looked like any generic infant mush, and Jasper, for being so young and new to the earth, looked strikingly like their father.

_Speak of the devil,_ she thought, as the back door swung open and Deacon walked in.

"Hi," she smiled brightly.

"Hey," he grinned, removing his bag from his shoulder and placing it on the back of the barstool. "How was school?"

She shrugged, adjusting her arm ever so slightly to Jasper's weight as he continued to aggressively demolish the bottle.

"Good, I guess. Same old stuff."

Deacon raised his eyebrow and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

"Same lesson as yesterday, huh? I think your mama and I are getting ripped off."

She smirked slightly, raising her sarcastic eyes to meet his.

"No."

He smirked back and lightly brushed a finger over his son's forehead.

"Where's your mama?" he asked, sitting down on the other side of the couch.

"Taking a shower, or a nap. Or both."

Deacon nodded, noticing the boy beginning to squirm in Maddie's arms.

"You want me to take him so you can go upstairs?"

"No." Maddie shook her head, throwing the burp cloth over her shoulder and lifting her brother up to face it. She gingerly began patting him on the back. "I like spending time with him."

Deacon focused his gaze on the two of them. She and Daphne both were excellent big sisters. Not that he thought they wouldn't be, but they'd both definitely shown more interest and taken on larger roles than he would have thought girls their age would want to.

"You're good with him."

She grinned, laughing slightly as a fairly substantial burp escaped Jasper's small body.

"Thank you."

"Seriously, Maddie." He put his hand on her shoulder as she once again adjusted Jasper in her arms. She looked up at him.

"You and Daphne both. You're both so great with him and you help out with him and around the house and I really appreciate it. I know your mama does, too."

Maddie nodded, feeling herself fill with a sense of pride. While she certainly wasn't volunteering to care for her brother to score brownie points with her parents, just hearing her father tell her how much he appreciated her made her feel like a million bucks.

She smiled.

"You know, I was looking at him earlier and you know what I think?"

"What's that?"

"I think he looks like you."

Deacon chuckled and scooted in a little closer, leaning over her shoulder to look at the now sleeping boy.

"That's the rumor."

"I didn't really look like you or mom. I just looked squishy. He's not, though. He's handsome."

"Oh, come on." He brought his eyes to her face. "You were a beautiful baby."

She winced slightly.

"When's the first time you met me?"

He sighed. She'd asked every other question on the face of the planet, but never this. It had always been a bittersweet memory for him, though the texture of it had changed since he'd discovered she was his daughter. At first it was downright bitter, but the more time went on he found it becoming sweet.

"You were about three months old. You had at least five or six pounds on this guy. I was moving out of rehab for the last time. They were sending me to a kind of in-between place just to make sure I was better—"

"Which you were." It was a statement more than a question, he observed. She kept her eyes down on Jasper's face, rocking him ever so slightly.

Deacon felt tears welling in his eyes.

"I was, yeah. I was better and leaving that place and walking out with my stuff when I saw your mama standing just down the sidewalk. She was propped up against that old Range Rover she used to drive." He smirked at the thought. "She was standing there holding you and I thought she'd never looked more beautiful."

Maddie continued to stare at her brother.

"What'd you guys say?"

"She just asked me how I was doing, told me I looked good and stuff. Then she said she wanted us to meet and asked if I wanted to hold you. I was scared to death I was going to drop you, but she helped me. She made sure I didn't."

"What'd you think of me?"

His breath caught slightly in his throat as he choked back tears of the memory. He hadn't shared it with anyone but an AA crowd since he'd found out about her.

"I thought you were the prettiest, most precious thing I'd ever laid my eyes on. I didn't know you were mine, you know, but I still… I did fall in love with you, Maddie."

She finally looked up at him slowly, pushing her hair back to reveal tears slowly running down her cheeks; her eyes puzzled.

"Why?"

"Because you were your mama's."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to Shiny Jewel for her beta skills and general awesomeness! Also a huge thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. It means a lot. :) **

* * *

It had been four weeks to the day since Rayna gave birth.

She'd been so eagerly awaiting it that she'd even set a reminder on her calendar, though the notion that she'd actually forget was absurd.

Her doctor had ordered her to avoid anything strenuous for that time, specifically mentioning cleaning and heavy lifting. Rayna groaned at the thought.

Sure, she had professional cleaners in her house once a week, but she felt out of control not being able to stay on top of everything in the interim. Maddie and Daphne had been huge helps, but she was still itching to get back into her normal headspace.

She'd also immediately wanted to completely void her closet of all the maternity clothes. She adored her baby boy with every fiber of her being, but more than ever she knew he was it for her. Her age notwithstanding, she didn't feel she could physically or mentally go through it again.

She grinned to herself as she pulled each and every stitch of maternity fabric off its hanger and folded it neatly, thinking of how much worse he was on her than either of the girls had been. She labored for seventeen hours with Maddie, fourteen with Daphne, and only ten with Jasper; however she was by far the most uncomfortable with him.

As she threw the last swollen top into the box and taped it up, she thought back to the delivery room. The doctor, upon seeing her stressed condition and taking some notes on both her and the baby's vitals, had urged her to consider a Cesarean. Through all of the pain, pressure, and anguish she had somehow managed to stick to her guns and refuse, though she did make a deal with him that if any point came where either she or the baby were actually in danger she would do it.

She brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, staring at the box and remembering Deacon's words to her as the doctor left the room.

"_You sure you don't wanna think about it, Ray?"_

"_Yes," she bit back. "I haven't done it yet and I'm not starting now."_

_She lay on her side with her back to him, as that was the most comfortable position she could find for that particular moment; and God bless, it wasn't even comfortable. He softly stroked the side of her head, his face as close to hers as he could get it with the hospital bed in the way._

"_I know, darlin', but aren't you ready to just… I don't know, have him be here?"_

_She took a deep breath and tried to stifle her tears, to no avail. _

"_I am, but God damn it I can't do this, Deacon. It's too much. Why did we fucking do this?"_

_He grinned and reached around her to place his hand over her shaking ones, steadying them. _

"_Because of how worth it it's gonna be when the hard part's over."_

She smiled and braced herself before squatting down and picking up the box.

It was more worth it than she could stand to tell. Her children were everything to her; they were every reason she made every decision she'd ever made; they were every reason she existed.

* * *

_Calm. _

No other words went through Deacon's head; at best, that particular one was vaguely traveling through his orbit.

He lay on the couch in the downstairs rec room; Jasper snoozing peacefully in front of him in his swing. One of the first, most prominent things he discovered about parenthood was the necessity of using the baby's naptime wisely, particularly if it looked like one might be spending several hours at rehearsal.

He found himself teetering on the edge of the blessed infinite abyss known otherwise as sleep when a loud grunt roused him, followed by a fairly large crash and a shriek. His senses failed him a fair bit, as he looked around in fuzzy confusion rather than getting up to investigate the suspicious noises.

Right at that moment, a large box landed on the floor in front of the staircase, just within his peripheral vision. He stood quickly at the sight of Rayna hurriedly walking down the stairs.

"What the hell, Ray?"

She blew a piece of hair out of her face, seemingly half embarrassed and half determined to not let the box beat her.

"Bringing my clothes down."

Deacon rolled his eyes and leaned down to grab the mangled cardboard.

"Damn it, Rayna. You know you could've just asked me."

"Well, you had Jasper and everything, so..."

He shook his head and stood with the box, carrying it towards the back storage room.

"He's asleep."

She walked towards the door to open it for him, rolling her eyes at his insistence.

"Maybe I just want to get back to normal; get back my energy, you know?"

He edged his way into the small room, somehow skillfully maneuvering his way around countless other boxes without falling or dropping the one he was carrying. She made a mental note that the room needed to be cleaned.

"Did the doctor clear you?"

She nodded and watched him drop the box to the floor.

"Well, sort of. He said four weeks. It's been exactly four weeks."

Deacon sighed, resting his arms atop one of the box stacks in the back of the room.

"You were counting?"

She grinned silently, leaning over to look at a few items in boxes around her. As she picked up a small shoe box, her breath somewhat caught in her throat as she noticed the stack of DVDs inside.

She slowly pulled a handful of them out, recognizing them immediately.

_Maddie's home videos._

There were videos from her infancy all the way through her first soccer game. She nearly shuddered; realization washing over her that Deacon had never once laid eyes on them.

She'd always wanted to show him; to allow him the best sort of glimpse into the parts of Maddie's life that he missed. Somehow, perhaps because of fear, she had never volunteered the treasures.

She smiled sadly as she ran her fingers delicately over the cases.

"What, Ray?"

She glanced up at him, her eyes glistening slightly.

"You have time for some movies before rehearsal?"

* * *

Hot water cascaded from the faucet, singeing Rayna's perfectly manicured hands. She didn't really notice, as she had turned this into something of a nightly ritual—someone, usually herself or Maddie, would give Jasper his bath. Deacon would then dress him and get him all ready for bed while she prepared his bottle and scrubbed the dirty ones in the sink before placing them in the steam sanitizer.

She grinned.

Deacon had fought her tooth and nail, failing to see the point in the $150 machine. She'd argued that the microwave sanitizer was not an option, as she didn't want some sort of radioactive waves compromising the bottle. She also had to explain to him that soap and water simply didn't do, what with so many diseases around.

He had asked what she did for Maddie since sanitizers weren't widely popular back then. She laughed quietly at the memory of her telling him she used soap and water, right as she turned around and picked the sanitizer up from the shelf and carried it to the check-out line without another word.

The two of them together cracked her up.

She smiled again, remembering how a young Maddie had them both cracking up just hours earlier.

Rayna had shown him everything—Maddie coming home from the hospital, her birthdays, her dance recitals, her softball games, soccer games, piano recitals, and her Disney karaoke shows… no stone had been left unturned. Oddly enough, she found he reacted better to seeing Teddy in the videos than he did to seeing himself in a few.

He'd often glance from the TV to their son in his swing, trying his hardest to remain stoic as he watched himself unknowingly give his daughter her first Cabbage Patch Kid on her second birthday. He tried not to break down as he watched the two of them try to strum the guitar together on Rayna's tour bus when she was but three.

Rayna sighed, remembering the single tear that did manage to fall at the sight of that same three year old running wobbly through the back hallways of an arena, frantically turning her pigtailed head from side to side.

"_What's wrong, baby?"_

"_Where's he at, mama?"_

"_Who?"_

"_Deagon."_

He had laughed at her pronunciation of his name. As smart and advanced as she was, her C's had not been quite as forthcoming as everything else. She always wanted to ride in the 'gar,' or pet the 'gat,' or put on a jacket when she was 'gold.'

She'd been nothing but precious to him since the first time he held her, just as precious as he was to her. It was not lost on Rayna that they had bonded from the very beginning, nor was it lost on him now as he relived these memories of the two of them together; so connected, but so oblivious.

Rayna shut the faucet off and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, tossing it aside as she sought to grab Jasper's bottle from the beeping bottle warmer—the one appliance Deacon had actually not fought. All it took when he did start to question was Rayna asking him how he'd like cold breast milk straight from the fridge. That shut him right up.

She picked up the bottle and turned to sprint up the stairs, flipping off the kitchen light behind her as she did so. Quietly, she opened the door to the nursery.

"Okay, guys—" she stopped upon finding it completely dark and completely empty. She wasn't completely surprised, as Deacon would often take the baby into their room to watch TV until she came up.

She turned and walked across the hall, brushing stray pieces of her loose bun out of her face. She opened her bedroom door, finding it silent and completely dark except for the lamp on her own nightstand.

Her heart skipped a beat as she caught glimpse of Deacon passed out on his back; their son sleeping peacefully on his chest. Deacon's left arm lay limply at his side, while his right hand rested protectively on Jasper's back.

She brought her hand up to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.

_This._

She always heard Deacon describe the moments he felt validated him—the first time he played the Ryman, the moment Johnny Cash called him to play on his record, or the moment he was nominated for his first solo CMA—but all of those moments were dust compared to this moment.

This was the moment Deacon Claybourne was meant for.


	4. Chapter 4 : The Party - Part I

**As always, thank you to everyone for their feedback! Enjoy the bliss. :)**

* * *

Deacon stepped lively into the kitchen, quickly pulling a t-shirt over his head and running a smoothing hand over his hair, still sopping wet from the shower.

"Okay, I hurried. What's next?"

Rayna gazed up from the pulled pork sliders she was crafting. She immediately took note of the gray shirt tightly hugging his damp torso and cursed the dangerously tight schedule they'd both be running on for the next five to six hours.

Sighing, she focused her gaze back to the sliders.

"I still don't know why you refuse to hire someone to mow the grass."

He smirked at his wife and grabbed a carrot from the elaborate veggie tray she'd picked up that morning.

"Same reason you've been standing over those tiny BBQ sandwiches since 10 AM. Guess I just don't trust anybody to do it better than I can." As he grabbed another carrot, he realized there were at least thirty completed sliders on the platter in front of her and another two dozen buns ready to go next to the oversized bowl full of pork. "Exactly who all is coming to this thing anyway?"

"Everybody."

Deacon raised his eyebrow and reached for yet another carrot, swiftly dodging his wife's hand as she swatted at him.

"Rayna, he's turning one. Are a hundred people necessary?"

She rolled her eyes.

"There aren't a hundred people coming and it doesn't matter anyway 'cause you're eating all the food."

"I need sustenance. We have a big yard."

Rayna sighed and surveyed the scene in front of her.

It was her son's first birthday, her kitchen was a mess, and their guests would be arriving in less than two hours. She shuddered at the realization that atop everything she just thought of, there were at least fifty other things that needed to be done. Those closest in her circle had all assumed she would host a small, intimate gathering as opposed to the just barely oversized shindig she ended up planning; the barely oversized shindig that had put her in over her head.

Deacon was right—she gave him a hard time for insisting on doing everything himself, all while she insisted on being just as hands on. It always seemed like such a good idea until it wasn't.

"Look, babe, I've got a million things on the list. The tables all need to be set up outside, this mess needs to go, the cake needs to be picked up, Jasper still needs to be dressed, _I_ need to be dressed—"

"Hey," Deacon wrapped his arms around her waist and placed a kiss on her temple. "We'll get it done. Daphne and Tandy are working outside, Jasper's sleeping, and I'll go get the cake. And even if we don't get everything done, aren't we a little old and isn't this a little informal for anybody to be getting gray hair over?"

Rayna sighed and allowed herself to sink back into his chest, halfway relaxing for the first time that day.

"I know, I know. It's just a lot of pressure. He's my last baby and I want everything to be perfect."

"Come on, Ray. It'd be perfect if it were us and the kids in a tent with a can of beans. He'd remember that about the same and our memories would be just as happy."

She smiled.

"Yeah. That actually sounds really good right about now."

Deacon squeezed his arms tighter around her and nuzzled his face in her neck, speaking softly into her ear.

"It's not too late to put them all in the truck and go, you know. Sort of like a first birthday elopement. We could send everyone a gas station postcard."

Rayna laughed and met his lips with hers before shooing him off.

"Not gonna happen, babe. If you could run and get the cake that'd be great. By the time you get back he'll probably be up."

He nodded, taking a quick glance around the kitchen as realization washed over his face.

"I think Maddie still has my keys. Is she upstairs?"

"No, Hunter got here while you were in the shower. They're supposed to be outside helping."

Deacon turned on his heels and exited out the patio door, failing to see his daughter and her boyfriend anywhere.

After a quick peek at the progress for the party setup and confirmation from Tandy that Maddie was nowhere to be found, he sighed and walked down the incline in the yard towards the basement door. Rayna had said for a fact they weren't upstairs, so that's the only other place they could be.

He glanced at his watch. Roughly an hour and a half to go before people would start to arrive.

_Get a move on, Deacon._

He sprinted the last few feet to the glass door, freezing in his tracks at the sight before him when he looked in: his daughter, his _little girl_, sucking sloppy face with her boyfriend.

His heart stopped before it completely fell to his feet. Or maybe it fell to his feet first and then stopped; he couldn't be sure. All he was sure of was the notion that this was the most horrid thing he had ever laid his eyes on. It hurt him. It made him sick. It made him every kind of _angry_ to see Maddie's tongue sliding so effortlessly down this kid's throat.

There was no way it could possibly get worse.

Except, there it was… Hunter's slender hand running along Maddie's side, then over, then…

_God. Help. Me._

Deacon turned quickly; awkwardly on his heels and ran back up the hill and onto the patio. He was sure he heard Daphne or Tandy, or maybe even both, trying to converse with him but he couldn't focus. All he saw was red.

He opened the patio door and slammed it shut, finding himself back in the kitchen. Frozen, he stared down at his feet in silence.

Rayna looked up, confused.

"What's the matter? Babe?"

Deacon shook his head, but still said nothing.

"Babe?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Rayna rolled her eyes and went back to her preparation.

"Okay."

Deacon found himself beginning to pace back and forth in front of her, seemingly trying to formulate a sentence in his head. He couldn't hold it back any longer.

"We have a problem."

Rayna rolled her eyes again, meeting his.

"I thought you didn't wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head and steadied his hands on the back of the barstool.

"I don't, but you have to. With her."

Putting down the slider she had just finished, Rayna folded her hands and searched his face.

"What? With who?"

Deacon gripped the barstool tighter, clenching his jaw. Visions of what he had just seen played through his head like the Sugarplum Fairy.

_Nightmares._

"Maddie's downstairs with Hunter."

Rayna raised her eyebrow, making no attempt to mask the confusion and annoyance playing dueling pianos on her face.

"Okay?"

She watched her husband's eyes flare wide as he heatedly ran his hands over his face. She could tell he was about to shout.

"Rayna!"

She threw her hands up, shouting back.

"What?!"

"They're making out!"

She stood taken aback for a split second, absorbing his revelation like a sponge. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, trying not to smile at the naivety that still oozed from him from time to time.

He'd technically been a father for give or take about four years, and God and everyone knows he had adapted quickly and become a natural. He'd stepped into the role awkwardly at first, but he'd grown into exactly the kind of parent Maddie needed. He blended well with Rayna and Teddy and every piece of the puzzle had finally conjoined seamlessly.

But every now and then they had a moment like this.

She wanted to resist the urge to be snarky or make fun of him, but he almost made it too easy. And who would she be if she didn't insert a little bit of sass in every aspect of her life?

She let a smirk creep across her face as she brought her eyes to his.

"Tongue and all?"

Deacon fumed.

"God help me."

She rolled her eyes softly, a look of pleading playing them.

"Deacon, they're teenagers."

"Yeah, so were we." He shifted his weight from side to side, tapping his hand on the island. "Rayna, it's time."

She placed her attention half-heartedly back to the sliders, hoping her disinterest would get him to drop the subject and focus on his task at hand.

"Time for what?"

His eyes widened at the idea that she dared to play so dumb.

"You know. _It._ Aren't you supposed to have some kind of talk with her?"

"Deacon, she's 17."

He sighed, exasperated.

"Right. And she's moving right along."

Rayna let out a breath and narrowed her eyes.

"You're about 5 years too late, babe."

Deacon cocked his head.

"I'm sorry?"

She smiled reassuringly as she worked on the pork sliders.

"She's covered. I got this."

Deacon stepped away quickly.

She tried not to laugh as he turned around to face her, his eyes and veins on the verge of bulging.

"How the hell? Already?!"

Rayna shrugged, again praying to no avail that her dismissiveness would calm him.

"Incrementally."

He shook his head and raised one finger.

"No, no, no. How the hell does one have that talk 'incrementally'?"

Rayna threw the bun down and rolled her eyes, feeling the heat of annoyance rise to her cheeks.

"Well, since you're insisting, she got the basics when she got her first period, a little more with her HPV vaccine, and the full no holds barred spiel about two months ago when she went on the pill. Anything else?"

She stared at him; challenged him.

His eyes were wide, but they weren't angry. They were full of utter fear and dread. She noted that he looked eerily similar to when she had told him she was pregnant with Jasper.

Suddenly, all of the balls were in the court of the almighty.

Suddenly, he held no control whatsoever over the situation.

He shook his head meekly.

"No."

"Good. Now will you please go pick up the cake?"


	5. Chapter 5 : The Party - Part II

**Thanks to Shiny Jewel for constantly staying on my back to get these chapters done while also reminding me that Deacon Claybourne with an infant would be the best, sweetest, hottest, most amazing thing to ever grace our TV screens. This one goes out to Tandy and her knack for sticking her nose into everything whether it's wanted or not. :)**

* * *

Deacon pushed the door open slowly, covering Jasper's eyes and peeking in timidly before deeming it safe to enter. He sighed, realizing that he had let the fear of seeing Maddie make out or worse with her boyfriend cause him reluctance to even enter his son's room.

_Ridiculous._

He sat the boy on the Snoopy rug in the middle of the floor and walked over to the glider, where Rayna said she had laid out a birthday outfit for him. Just as he was beginning to pick up the clothes, he was startled by his toddler's sudden vocalization.

Deacon smiled at the sight of him pounding his chubby fists on the floor, yelling "DADADADADADA" over and over again. His dark bed head stood widely atop his head and his legs kicked feverishly.

Of course, he didn't actually want nor need anything. He was just loud mouthed with the brazen energy of Tarzan.

Deacon sighed. If Jasper was anything like he was by the time he was ten, they were all in for trouble. He'd already mentioned to Rayna that they should probably go ahead and donate thousands of dollars to the orthopedic center at Vanderbilt Children's Hospital to get their own private room set aside for as often as they'd likely be there with broken bones.

"What are you doing, big guy?"

Jasper stopped his antics, looked up at his father with his bright blue eyes, and shyly put his hand in his mouth.

Deacon grinned and crouched down to the boy's level, holding out his arms and tickling him on the sides until he finally got him to crack a smile.

Once he got him laughing, it seemed it was impossible to get him to stop.

"Okay, kiddo." He picked him up, kissing him hard on the side of the head as he did so. "What's your mama want you to wear today?"

Jasper continued sucking on one hand while the other beat Deacon's shoulder in a near perfect metronomic rhythm.

Deacon used his free hand to pick up the shirt Rayna had left. He frowned, realizing the outfit was nothing short of cheesy: a white button up, black bow tie, grey vest, grey slacks that Deacon was sure were actually capris, and a grey golfer's cap. He raised his eyebrows at the shoes, dismissing them as something one would wear only when bowling.

The two of them had several spats over the course of any given week when it came to Jasper's wardrobe, as everything she deemed "cute," Deacon deemed "tacky" and vice versa.

Figuring today was going to turn out no different, he looked up at his son and sighed.

"You wanna wear this, Jasper? On your first birthday with all the pictures and the cake and everyone coming to see you?"

Jasper laughed and continued beating Deacon on the back.

"NONONONONONONONONONO DADADADADADADADADADADA."

Deacon was aware that he answered every question as such and had barely, if any, comprehension of what he was saying, but he figured he would just roll with it.

"Good call."

* * *

"Where's the birthday boy?"

Rayna was unsure which of the 50 party attendees was questioning the whereabouts of her son as she brought out another plate of sliders and placed it on the table. She looked up through her aviator sunglasses and smiled widely, turning to retreat back into the kitchen for the rest of the food.

"He should be out here any—"

She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight in front of her: Jasper walking clumsily towards her while Deacon held his arms over his head and whispered at him to go "find mommy." It was adorable, really; heart melting. It was also… the wrong outfit.

She put on her best fake smile, beaming to the crowd of people.

"Here he is!"

Deacon grinned and picked Jasper up, placing a quick kiss on Rayna's lips. She kept her face close to his, smiling through gritted teeth.

"What the hell is he wearing?" She whispered in his ear.

Deacon glanced down at her, a cocky smile playing on his face.

"Real clothes."

Her fake smile grew larger as she took in her son's boots, jeans, and plaid shirt. Apparently her husband wasn't just good at underdressing himself—their son would be wearing sleeveless denim before she knew it.

"I'm going to kill you."

She moved her face away from his, taking the baby and walking towards a group that had been ever so eager to see him as Deacon slowed behind her, chatting up Bucky.

Tandy approached her quickly with a look on her face that said nothing other than someone had died or dropped the cake or something equally catastrophic.

"Where's the outfit?!"

Rayna rolled her eyes.

"Talk to your brother-in-law."

Tandy seethed. She and Rayna had spent hours at Nordstrom constructing the perfect first birthday get-up. Tandy wanted something classic, while Rayna opted towards more casual but still intelligent. They'd eventually come to agree on the golfer bowtie ensemble, finding it to be a nice blend of both their tastes. Since it was likely the last first birthday party until God forbid the girls had babies, they put a lot of time, effort, and thought into every inch of planning. How _dare_ his father stake some kind of claim in that process.

"That jackass."


	6. Chapter 6 : The Party - Part III

**Again, here's to hoping this torture on our screens will end and there will be bliss at the end of this very dark tunnel. **

* * *

Rayna counted the stack of plates one more time and pushed them to the side of the counter, exhaling exhaustedly as she began to move on to the cake.

"Babe, these are ready to go out."

She glanced up at her husband. He was staring out the window as if he was watching every blessed move of a loathed enemy; challenging, unwavering. Rayna sighed and turned her head around to catch a glimpse of what he was seeing.

She rolled her eyes at the sight of Maddie and Hunter occupying Jasper in his sandbox, flirting relentlessly as they did so.

"Babe? Come on now."

Deacon shook his head.

"Rayna, I can't handle this."

She wiped her palms on her pants and focused on opening the cake box, hoping against hope that for the second time that day, her disinterest would switch him to a different track.

"Can't handle what?"

He scoffed.

"What we talked about earlier. It's just not sitting right."

Rayna rolled her eyes, tossing the box lid to the side.

"Deacon—"

"Think I should talk to the kid? Or kick him in the dick? Something?"

She paused, bringing her eyes to his in a fit of absolute ridicule. Honestly, she could think of nothing more pleasing at the moment than kicking _him_ in the dick if that's what it took to get him back to earth—not to mention he still needed payback for dressing Jasper as if he was about to do his first gig at Honky Tonk Central.

"Oh, for God sakes."

She rolled her eyes again lifted the cake out of the box, immediately biting her lip at the realization that it was a lot heavier and bigger than she thought it would be.

"Rayna, this is serious."

She stopped dead in her tracks and stared at him, eyes wide.

"What's serious is I'm standing in the middle of the kitchen holding a 900 lb. birthday cake for your son, who in no time at all is going to come crying to you when _he's _the one getting kicked in the dick."

Deacon pursed his lips and shook his head for what seemed like the 50th time in the last 20 seconds.

"That won't happen."

Sighing, Rayna closed her eyes. She really was trying to execute the perfect party, but more than that, she needed him to take a step back and look at the picture. Her voice softened.

"Deacon, please. Can we just go outside and enjoy today? This is something we'll never get back, babe. Don't let that preppy little twerp ruin it."

He soaked in her words, looking down at his feet as they coursed through him. She was right—it was their last shot at this; his _only_ shot. He was so caught up in being a protective father to one that he was missing being a father to the other.

He sighed and looked back up at her, grinning ever so slightly as a mischievous twinkle ran through his eye. He could admit that she was right to her face, or he could mess with her. Right now, as she stood before him with a wild pony tail and mom jeans holding a designer cake that was minutes away from being demolished, seemed to be an appropriate time to do just that.

"So you think he's a twerp too?"

"Let's go."

* * *

The mirror had always been Rayna's harshest critic.

She never really had much use for one until the night her mother died, when she locked herself in the bathroom at summer camp and stared at herself while she cried. Since that night, she'd found something of a comfort in confronting her own face; her own musings. Besides Deacon, no one in her life had ever been 100% forthcoming with her. They'd all managed to either tell her what they thought she wanted to hear, or just place their own wants and needs in front of her and tout them as truth. The mirror, though… the mirror spoke just about as loudly as her husband.

She yawned, gazing introspectively at the lines crossing her face. She'd gone through a lot to get them—but now, she smiled. It had been a long time coming that she was able to look herself in the eye and truly, legitimately smile.

She reflected back to earlier in the day, when they'd brought the cake out and cut the first piece for Jasper. There was a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday" while Aunt Tandy shot video, Rayna scrambled to get his short off before it was destroyed, Deacon tried to convince her to lighten up with the clothes, and the birthday boy looked back and forth between the cake and all of them like he simply wasn't buying it.

It was a look of cynical skepticism that Rayna had seen more than plenty of times on his father's face and while she was certain it would begin to drive her crazy at some point as he aged, the look was all too precious to her now. The entire day, from the wrong outfit to Maddie's teenage shenanigans to Deacon's malaise to the cake smashing to the presents, was too precious to her.

She blinked, the weight of the day finally catching up to her eyelids as she found it harder and harder to keep them open. Sighing, she stood up and turned off the vanity light, thankful that she could _finally_ sit in front of her mirror and reflect calmly, not in a constant state of entropy.

Shuffling to the bed, she looked forward to the second she could lay her body down and bask in her 1,020 thread count Italian sateen sheets. She smirked; thinking to herself how much even Deacon loved them—though if he found out how much she paid for them he'd probably take them outside and burn them on principle.

Rayna sighed happily as she sank into bed, reaching to switch off her lamp. She leaned over to kiss her husband on the back of the head, immediately sensing a harsh heaviness in his space.

"What's the matter, babe?" She whispered.

"Nothing."

She blinked hard, draping her arm over his bare chest.

"I feel like there's something you wanna be talking to me about."

"Nah, I just…" He trailed off, grabbing hold of her hand and lacing his fingers through. "You're okay with it? Maddie?"

Rayna took in a sharp breath, tightening her grip on his hand as she gathered her thoughts. She didn't foresee Jasper's first birthday leading to any kind of discussion, much less an intense one late at night when she wanted nothing but sleep, about their daughter's almost sex life.

"Babe, of course I'm not." She pulled on his arm, imploring him to roll over and face her. "I'm her mama. It's my job to wanna protect her from everything, but this is just one of those things I can't keep her from forever. She's gonna do what she's gonna do with or without my approval. All either of us can do is be there for her and make sure she's okay."

Deacon lifted his sleepy eyes to hers, grabbing her hand as it lay limply on the bed between them.

"That's all you can do, I guess."

Rayna shrugged.

"It's just hard. All three of them are growing up way too fast."

"They sure are." He smirked, running his thumb softly over hers. "I still say there's no way the boy's a year old."

She chuckled softly, bringing her hand to his face.

"Oh, he is. You remember after they got him cleaned up and they handed him to you?"

"I'll never forget it." He grinned from ear to ear, his voice getting deeper the more exhausted he became.

Rayna grinned, too, sliding her finger across his stubbled jaw line.

"I may not have felt my best ever but I remember watching you." Her eyes locked with his as she habitually continued to move her hand up and down his face. "I know neither of us were completely sold on the idea of another baby but seeing you with him that day and every other day since then… it's right, Deacon. I wouldn't have it any other way—you're a wonderful father."

Deacon stared at her as he contemplated her words, allowing himself to revel in just how _in love_ with her he was; how in love with her he'd always been, even through all the darkness.

He leaned forward and kissed her ever so softly, rolling her onto her back. Her hands roamed all the familiar parts of his torso as he allowed his tongue to explore her mouth at a tortuously slow pace. She whimpered quietly into his mouth, finding herself flustered when he broke his lips from hers.

His eyes burned into her; took all of her in as he lifted his hand to her head and ran his fingers delicately through her hair.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" She choked out, her throat dry as she sought to catch her breath.

"For them. For us."

He grinned, lowering his face back to hers slowly, shamelessly teasing her as his lips hovered just above hers; his breath melting her down.

"For this."


	7. Chapter 7

**_I'm a little rusty, but this is just a little expansion on the day Jasper was born to get things going again. Thanks to Shiny Jewel for her persistence-otherwise I would never get anything done. Enjoy!_**

**_(Obviously, Jasper's name was created before the appearance of the new character on the show and before any current spoilers were released. Please pretend she and her shit storm do not exist for the sake of this story. Thank you!)_**

* * *

"…_beside the Cumberland River where the grass is soft and sweet, we ran across the fields of cedar hiding from the noisy streets."_

Deacon sang along quietly, almost subconsciously, as he cruised his truck down the long driveway, switching to a vibrant whistle as he wheeled into his parking spot and threw on the break. He'd loved Johnny Cash so much through the whole of his life that his entire catalog was now almost a part of his being. He sang along without realizing and whistled obscure melodies he sometimes wasn't even aware he knew.

He continued whistling as he turned off the engine and reached for the three lightly stuffed Kroger bags in the passenger seat. Pulling the keys from the ignition, he exited the Chevrolet and spritely jogged through the summer showers to the side door of the sprawling manse.

It had been Rayna's long before it had been his, and if he was honest, sometimes he still looked around and couldn't believe he resided in such opulence. His modest East Nashville craftsman and two-bedroom lake house had always been far more than enough for him, given the deplorable finances of his childhood. Sometimes he felt guilty that they weren't living simpler, but at the end of the day, all he wanted was whatever she wanted. He strived for nothing but the happiness of her and their family, so if that meant a 20,000 square foot castle, then so be it.

Shaking off the rain, he slid his key into the door and began to turn; frowning when he realized the door was already unlocked.

He'd certainly become more protective than he already was since Rayna had informed him of their unintended pregnancy roughly eight months ago. The house and all six acres were surrounded by enhanced security gating, yet the idea of leaving any doors unlocked for even ten minutes still sent him into a full-on tizzy.

She'd tried to reason with him that no one was getting onto the property that wasn't supposed to be there, much less getting into the house, but there was no reasoning with Deacon Claybourne when it came to his kids. He was stubborn as a mule anyway, but throwing Maddie, Daphne, and the new little guy into the mix meant there was nothing to be done.

"Baby, why isn't the door locked? I locked it when I left."

He yelled, still after two years getting used to the immense size of the house and the very stark reality that sometimes the other room was far enough away that no one could hear you calling.

"They didn't have the one string cheese you liked so I had to get the other kind."

He peered around the kitchen and sitting area, growing confused when Rayna was not uncomfortably bundled up on the couch where he'd left her but half an hour ago.

"Ray?"

He placed the grocery bags on the island, taking note that the TV was still tuned to the Golden Girls marathon she'd been watching all morning. He glanced over at the powder room and found it unoccupied.

Concerned, he darted up the stairs toward their bedroom, calling her name all the while. Empty. He quickly rounded the corners of both their bathrooms and closets, finding those vacant as well.

He ran his fingers through his hair to steady himself. He tried to convince himself there was a simple explanation and that the boogey man hadn't actually walked in and taken her (and by default validated his fears about the door locks), but there was little evidence to support that theory. She wasn't where he'd left her, the nearest bathroom, or the second most obvious comfort zone; and he'd never say it to her face, but she simply couldn't move fast enough to get anywhere else in the mere 30 minutes he'd been gone.

"Get a grip, Claybourne." He whispered to himself as he led himself out of the room and into the hallway.

"Rayna?" He yelled one more time. Relief washed over him when he heard a faint response from down the hall.

"In here, babe."

Passing the girls' rooms, he caught sight of his wife in the newly finished nursery. She was wearing yoga pants, his Sun Records t-shirt, no make-up, and her hair was the hottest mess he'd ever seen. She was remarkably swollen and she was beautiful. She was also wincing.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

He walked over to where she stood leaning over the chest-of-drawers and instinctively placed his hand on her back.

She closed her eyes and calmly exhaled, allowing the pain to subside for the moment. This wasn't her first rodeo, but she was quickly finding it to be the most agonizing.

"I'm fine." It was all she said as she resumed thumbing through the onesies in front of her.

Deacon raised his eyebrows.

"You don't look fine, Ray. What are you doing?"

"Packing, babe."

He nodded, though he didn't try to hide the confusion washing over his face.

"Packing? Why?"

"The go-bag, Deacon. We never packed it."

He took the four onesies she was holding out to him, absentmindedly clutching them.

"You aren't due for three weeks. We have time for that. Come lay down. You said you didn't feel well this morning."

He gingerly took hold of her elbow in an attempt to pull her towards the door.

She shook her head, sucking in a quick breath as she gripped the chest tightly, doubling over and resting her forehead on the top of the furniture. Deacon dropped the onesies and grabbed her other arm, steadying her.

"What the hell, Ray?"

She tried her best to wave him off so she could focus on her breathing and tread through this contraction with minimal impact, but to no avail. She'd told a white lie that morning when she said she didn't feel well. In reality, the contractions had been going since about 4 AM and were now, six and a half hours later, coming pretty steadily every five minutes or so.

She wanted to wait as long as possible to tell him, as she knew his reaction would be nothing short of panic and she was in no position to handle that side of him, but she couldn't hide it any longer. She'd bought herself some time by sending him to the store for her favorite pregnancy junk food, but the charade was over.

"Pick those up and put them in the bag, Deacon. Now."

He gripped her arms tighter, feeling the chunks begin to rise in his throat at the sight of her obvious discomfort. He hated seeing her in pain and even worse, he hated not knowing what was happening.

"Rayna, I'm not doing a damn thing until you tell me what the hell is going on—"

"My water broke."

Deacon stopped in his tracks. He carried his wide eyes to the floor, expecting visual evidence of this momentous occasion he'd read about so often the last couple of months. The floor was dry.

"What? Now?"

Rayna shook her head, steadying herself and shifting to look at him as the wave subsided yet again.

"While you were gone, babe."

He nodded slowly, allowing her words to absorb and trying his damnedest to center himself.

_Shit._

"So, what does that mean?"

She smiled lightly; her eyes tired.

"It means it's time."

He'd heard those words a thousand times in movies and on TV. He'd read them in books. He'd known for months now that she would inevitably say them to him, but he found himself so completely unprepared for the moment.

It was all happening—_NOW—_and he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it; to give himself just five more minutes to think about every single little detail and what he needed to do to be ready.

He never finished babyproofing the bathroom. There was still a stack of baby clothes that needed to be washed. Rayna never took back the nipple cream she got at her shower and replaced it with the brand she wanted.

All of these things were pressing and his nightmares were plagued with visions of his son drowning in the toilet and Rayna complaining when he touched her breasts because the damn cream wasn't doing its job properly, and here she stood before him telling him _it's time._

Like hell it was time.

The car seat wasn't assembled. Maddie was still angry.

He was resolute.

He opened his mouth to protest—to tell that baby to stay where it was until he said it was okay to come—but down she went again.

_Wake the fuck up, Claybourne. It's time._

* * *

Rayna opened her eyes slowly, smiling at the sight before her. Deacon sat in the glider chair next to the window, facing the dancing lights of the Nashville skyline. They danced before him like a cabaret but he paid them no mind. All he could look at was his 8-hour old son.

Wincing, Rayna sat up slowly. She didn't know if it was her age or her son's tenacity or size, but this labor had wreaked havoc on her body. He'd come quickly—a mere two hours after they made it to the hospital—but she would've gone through 17 hours of labor with Maddie again in a heartbeat.

"How you doing over there, daddy?"

Deacon turned towards her, grinning at the way the moonlight and the lights of their city illuminated her face. After all these years and tribulations, her beauty still captivated him.

"I'm good, mommy. How are you?"

She sighed, reaching for the water cup on the bed tray next to her.

"Sore," she spoke softly as she took a sip. "But happy. So happy."

Deacon chuckled, rising slowly and walking towards the chair at his wife's bedside. He crept; so afraid of waking his son, or dropping him, or breaking him, or both. He thought of himself as a born natural sitting still with him, but walking with him was entirely different.

He lowered himself onto the chair, scooting closer to Rayna as she tiredly lifted her finger to the baby's forehead.

The girls, Tandy, Bucky, and Scarlett had all been in and out in the afternoon and into the early evening, but everyone had finally cleared out around 9. Deacon had turned the lights off and prayed Rayna could get at least an hour of sleep before the nurses came back and bombarded her with poking and prodding. She'd gotten pretty well close to that and she was thankful.

She stroked the child's forehead for about a minute, desperately wanting to hold him but not wanting to ask her husband to hand him over. She could tell he was so in love and a small pang darted through her heart as it occurred to her that he had missed every second of this experience with their daughter.

She didn't want to rob him of that again.

"You happy?" She asked, moving her finger to the side of Deacon's face.

He smiled.

"Yeah, I'm happy."

She smiled back, bringing her hand to rest in her lap.

"You know," she choked out hoarsely. "He still doesn't have a name."

"I thought you decided on Jasper?" Deacon questioned as he rocked the boy slowly back and forth.

"We did, but I mean a middle name. You hated my idea."

Deacon raised his eyebrows at her.

"I'm not naming the poor kid after me, Rayna. It ain't happening."

She gave him her best pouty face she could muster through the residual pain.

"Not even your middle name?"

He laughed, borderline shocked that she would even ask.

"Are you completely crazy?"

She giggled softly, her exhaustion preventing her from laughing as much as she wanted to.

"Come on, now. Pregnancy brain is very real. Leave me alone."

"Whatever you say, darlin'."

She rolled her eyes, reaching again for the Styrofoam cup.

"You got any better ideas, Deacon Clyde Claybourne?"

"Shut up." He would've smacked her arm if his wasn't full. "I've got plenty of ideas that are better than that."

She giggled again.

"Then let's hear them."

He looked down at Jasper, smirking. Of course he had zero ideas. She was always the one in control of these kinds of details, but he simply wasn't letting her brand this innocent child with his first name. Having to take his last name was punishment enough and the world really only needed one variation of a Freakin Deacon Claybourne.

His middle name was out of the question for obvious reasons.

He racked his brain, trying to come up with something that sounded halfway decent and fit the kid's face.

_Aaron. Michael. Hank. Merle. Garrett._

No, no, and no. He shook his head. It needed more meaning.

He thought about males in both of their families, but naming his son after his daddy or Lamar was not even close to happening. He squinted as he studied his sons face, watching as he opened his tiny eyes slowly.

They were piercing. They were smart. They were effortlessly a part of Deacon. They were…

_I got it._

He mind traveled back to the last song he'd listened to that day; a song he wasn't even aware he was listening to. The lyrics flowed through his head like a river rapid and he smiled, gazing up at his wife.

"…_I'm planting my roots in this ground and when they look for me I'll be found with something that is part of me, you, and Tennessee."_

"Cash."

Rayna blinked hard.

"Cash. His name is Jasper Cash."

She played with the idea in her head for a split second. It was all it took.

"It's perfect."

She ran her hand over the top of his head, smoothing his blue knit cap.

"What do you think, Jasper Cash Claybourne?" She whispered.

The baby sneezed before cooing himself back to a blissfully unaware slumber.

Deacon laughed.

"I think he likes it."

Rayna and Deacon smiled at one another, reveling in the magic of this little alien being they had created out of thin air.

Deacon stood and finally, knowing he didn't even have to ask, placed Jasper in his mother's arms before kissing her on the forehead.

"Is this what you had in mind when you took me back for the 90th time?"

"No," She shook her head slowly; exhausted.

"It's better."


End file.
